


Army Dreamers

by Ninjathrowingstork



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dave has a last name now!, Dave is too good, First Kiss, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Vietnam War, slight angst, the discord made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 13:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjathrowingstork/pseuds/Ninjathrowingstork
Summary: After everything he's done for Klaus, Dave has never asked for anything in return, and the first time he says "I love you" is hard for Klaus to understand.





	Army Dreamers

**Author's Note:**

> This started out on the Discord, so I have those crazy folks to thank for the idea. The title comes from the Kate Bush song, and most of it was written while listening to her.

“War is hell, but that's not the half of it, because war is also mystery and terror and adventure and courage and discovery and holiness and pity and despair and longing and love. War is nasty; war is fun. War is thrilling; war is drudgery. War makes you a man; war makes you dead.”  
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“But in a story, which is a kind of dreaming, the dead sometimes smile and sit up and return to the world.”  
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

People said war was hell. Klaus was starting to agree more and more with that old show and the doctor who said that war was war and hell was hell, and he was in a war that took both the good and bad and ground them up and spat them back out, alive or dead. Since he’d been a child, he’d been able to see the dead and still didn’t know for certain that what folks said about hell was true, but this definitely wasn’t hell because there were good people here, and the tall, lanky blonde man clearing the jungle foliage in front of him so their column could pass was one of the best. 

Dave was good, and Klaus would have been scared to lose him that first march out of the jungle if he hadn’t been downright terrified of the whole shitshow. They’d been moving since he landed, scared and bloody in a towel and his coat in the middle of the tent. He didn’t belong there or then, none of them did, really. Klaus just belonged here even less than them and to tell the truth, he was too scared to even try the suitcase that had brought him there again. 

That first night had been a chaotic swirl of lights and distant explosions and people throwing gear at him so he’d be ready to roll out with them. The tall blonde man he’d first seen waking up in the tent was nearby the whole time, making sure he had his boots on before they hit the trail down to where the busses waited and someone tossed him into the transport. No one had known him or where he’d come from, but that was nothing new in the chaos of the war. A scared recruit shows up in the wrong tent in just his towel and coat, and by the time the unit is on the road again he’s been absorbed into the group. There’s no paperwork to consult, so no one cares. 

The next day he’d officially met Dave, and Klaus had become his new shadow by the time they got back to base. At first Klaus had stuck to him for safety, since the big man seemed to know his way around and would check that Klaus was settling in with them, but then they’d both gotten weekend leave passes and a dingy little hotel room together. Dave had been so gentle when he helped wash the caked on sweat and grime out of his hair, Klaus had started getting choked up with how good it felt to just be touched. Had leaned into the gentle hands lathering his hair with the cheap hotel soap that kept scrubbing and lightly scratching his scalp longer than necessary to get his curls clean, and had actually cried when Dave had dropped light kisses up his shoulder once he was clean and getting dried off. 

They’d kissed in the disco that night. The swirling lights had made the taller man look like some glorious psychedelic angel under the flashes of orange and yellow, and Klaus knew he wanted this man, maybe even loved him. Neither had said it then, but the double bed in their hotel room got plenty of use that weekend. 

Three weeks later, and he realized Dave had never asked for anything from him in return. All the nights they’d slept side by side, either with their cots pushed side-by-side in the tent, or curled up together out in the jungle on a march. Klaus had had many “relationships” in the past, all temporary things that were some degree a transactionary arrangement. He’d spend a few nights with someone for a fix or for their supply, a few weeks to have somewhere to get off the streets for a while, or the strings of one night stands he’d gone home with like a stray puppy just for the sake of human contact and heat, to remember he was alive. Dave, big, sweet, beautiful Dave had never asked for anything from him. He’d been there when the nightmares came back and Klaus had to be woken up before he started yelling at the ghostly voices, and he’d held Klaus as he shook and cried silently into his shoulder. In their few, stolen moments alone, he’d kissed Klaus, holding him and letting him kiss back, but never pushed it farther than that, He’d never pushed him down, scrabbling at his pants, trying to get into his clothing. Dave had let Klaus take the lead in the moments of privacy they could find for more than just kisses in the dark. 

He’d taught Klaus to field strip and clean his gun, cursing at the negligent instructors in a training camp Klaus had never seen. He’d taught Klaus how to mend his own socks and rotate the few pairs they were issued and wash them in the rainwater the collected in their helmets during the jungle storms. Taught him which MREs were the best, and how to make the glop they served in the mess tent slightly edible. He taught him to feel like a person again in the middle of the insanity of the war. 

The first time Dave said he loved him, Klaus couldn’t process what he’d said at first. They were on leave again, and it was the last night they had away before reporting back to camp. Klaus wanted to enjoy this time, watching Dave get relaxed and carefree, the way he did after a few drinks. It was then he could imagine the two of them somewhere (somewhen) far away from the war, and how the man would be without the stresses of what they’d been through weighing down on them. Without the layer of sweat and dirt and he didn’t want to think about what else covering them. The dim yellow lights were washing over both of them, giving the whole bar a warm, dreamlike feeling. The beer and the stuffy heat had begun to double-team his brain, sending him into a happy, boozy haze as he listened to Dave talking about something as they slouched against each other in the back corner. The warm bulk under his shoulder shifted as Dave turned, one arm draping over Klaus’s skinny shoulders, the other hand gently cupping his face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. 

“Hey.”

“Mmmhhhmm?” came his drowsy reply. 

“I love you.”

“Heh, yeah, you’re pretty great, too.” 

“No, Klaus, you’re the only good thing to come from this whole damn war and I don’t hate the draft board anymore since getting sent here means I met you.”

“You. . . you really mean. . .”

He’d trailed off, suddenly unable to respond. 

“Yeah, and I- wait, babe, why are you crying?”

Babe. Loving him. It had all been too much. He couldn’t remember if anyone had said it to him before, but this was the first time he actually believed it, even if he wasn’t sure what it meant or believed it was true. It had been too much, hearing that he was loved. He’d buried his face in Dave’s shoulder and begun to sob. The tall, wonderful man had just wrapped Klaus in his arms and held him, like he had every night the voices had come to him in his nightmares and let him cry himself out. 

Him. Klaus Hargreeves. The superhero kid who’d run away as soon as the one person who’d made life at the mansion bearable had died. Who’d been raised to be a psychotic old monster’s child soldier and marketing prop after buying him as a baby. Who’d been high or stoned or some form of intoxicated since before his voice had dropped to escape it all. He was loved. Gorgeous, sweet Dave Katz said he loved him despite all that and had asked nothing back from him. Without knowing about any of the things he’d been or done, only knowing who Klaus was here and now, he was loved. 

Klaus knew it wouldn’t be forever, knew knew knew it wouldn’t last. They were from two different times and it was war and anything could happen, but Klaus Hargreeves was always selfish and took whatever he could. They’d never have met without the briefcase he got from the two maniacs who’d kidnapped him, and the world was about to end when he was from, so Klaus stayed in the war because there was someone who loved him as himself and time to love and be loved. He didn’t belong in this time, and wasn’t the soldier they thought he was, but he’d found something real in the middle of it all. It was truer than the truth, and he’d take it.

**Author's Note:**

> The song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOZDKlpybZE
> 
> "War is war and hell is hell" comes from M*A*S*H, which has aged wonderfully with its cynical humour that Klaus would appreciate. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUeBMwn_eYc
> 
> And I highly recommend the book the quotes are from, especially anyone wanting to write more about this part of Klaus's story since it has a ton about storytelling and the war and PTSD.


End file.
